What Went Wrong
by WhiteTigeres
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy couldn't except how her son's life had ended up. It drove her mad. She would make it all better, she would save her son. But her spell went wrong, so now what do Draco and Harry do? HP/DM Warning Slash
1. Chapter 1

****Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all of the characters belong to JK Rowling. **

**Warning: This is set after the seventh book. It won't have a happy ending and leads up to another story I'm writing. Also this is Slash, meaning Draco and Harry will be getting it on at one point. I'm not sure how far I'm going to take it. Truth be told I've never finished any lemons I ever tried to write. Anyway, I Hope you like it. **

** ~Kitten **

**Chapter One**

Harry Potter waited, less than patently, at the gate of Malfoy manor. His partner and best friend, Ron Weasely poked around the tall hedges with his wand, scanning for dark magic. The ginger shook his head signaling a negative and Harry pushed the gate open. The messy haired auror stormed up to the looming building. Malfoy manor had changed dramatically in the past three years. Ivy vines had crept their way up the cracking and degrading brick of the mansion walls. Several windows were shattered and the garden was overrun with weeds and dead grass. The place had obviously been neglected.

Not that Harry cared much. Who would expect the Malfoy's , whom were stripped of all but their home, to maintain the manor themselves. That prat Draco certainly wasn't going to do it, that much was clear. And Harry very much suspected that Narcissa had not worked a day in her life.

A very annoyed boy-who-lived stalked past all that and straight up to the peeling front door. When Harry had agreed to take the Malfoy Case he had never suspected it would cause him so many problems. Draco never made it to his monthly parole meetings, Harry always had to come collect him, and the git always made the interview difficult. The scared boy from the war had gradually regained his confidence and was constantly testing the young auror's limits.

Though Harry had to admit that Draco wasn't all bad. The blonde's joke and prods no longer held the bite they once did. No they were more witty wise creaks and jokes that almost made Harry laugh sometimes. The ex-Slytherin seemed to have turned over a new leaf. But none of that mattered this morning. Why? Because this morning a report came in saying that dark magic had been performed at Malfoy manor. Guess who was woken up at four in the morning to investigate the disturbance. That's right. Harry freaking Potter, and the boy savior was not in the least bit happy about it. Interrogating an arrogant git had not been on the top of Harry's list of things to do today.

"Open up Malfoy," Harry shouted, pounding on the door while Ron jogged to catch up.

"Calm down mate," Ron grabbed Harry's shoulder and pulled him back from the door. Using his wand the red headed auror unlocked the door. The dark haired man made a face at his own forgetfulness that made the ginger laugh.

"Come on," Harry scoffed and pushed past the taller man to enter the dark front hallway. It was one of the few rooms not covered in a layer of dust, besides the kitchen, bedrooms (only Mrs. Malfoy's and Draco's) and the library. And the bathroom but nobody ever seemed to count that. The two aurors searched the house high and low for the two purebloods only to turn up with nothing.

"Malfoy!" Harry growled, growing frustrated.

"Oi, Harry!" Ron called," I hear noise coming from their dungeon."

Harry joined his friend at the top of the stairs that descended down to the dark prison. The scarred man had long sense gotten over being locked down there while Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured Hermione, he had been in this house too many times now to let it bother him still. Ron on the other hand was still a bit squeamish about the memory. After all it was his fiancé. In any case the red headed auror always looked pale when he sometimes came to the manor with Harry to collect his charge and they passed these stairs. Ron looked pale now.

"Mother, please," Draco's voice drifted up the stone stairwell. The man sounded desperate and a little panicked. The two men at the top of the stairs shared a look, Ron nodded and Harry began to descend. He could see a faint glow of lamp light glowing at the bottom of the steps, lighting his way. Halfway down the two heard a woman shriek.

"NO!" Her voice was shrill," I'll make it right! I'll make it better! I'll fix everything Draco."

"Mother, Harry and the Weasel are probably storming the manor already. Please mother, forget this madness," they heard Draco say as the reached to bottom of the stairs.

It was obvious something was going on with . Harry didn't have time to feel guilty for it was Draco who had done something wrong. The man had a job to do. The torches that lit up the stone structure illuminated the grime creeping up the walls. The stone cavern was dank and smelled of musk, mildew, and faint traces of burnt wood. The space was thrown into flickering shadow making the figures in the room look ghostly pale and feeble. Mrs. Malfoy was on the floor, covered in soot and scribbling furiously with a charred piece of wood. Next to her Draco stood looking distressed. He pulled gently on his mother's shoulder but she shrugged him off.

"Just you wait, my Dragon," she wept as she worked. The tears worked tracks down her soot stained face," Everything will be made right."

"Malfoy," Harry said stepping forward.

Draco jumped grey eyes wide and startled when they darted in his direction. The taller man looked strained and stressed. He was in all black robes, usual attire for Draco, which looked if they had been put on in a hurry. His platinum blonde hair was a mess, strands falling around his face in a disheveled heap. Giving the aurors a curt nod he turned back to the woman on the floor and tried again.

"Look mother, auror Potter and Weasely are here. Why don't we go make them some tea? You've gotten quite good at it haven't you."

Ron snorted causing the prim blonde to glare at him. Harry elbowed his partner, a silent gesture meaning shut up. Ron got a lot of those.

The woman, unfortunately, didn't hear a word her son had said. She merely continued to scribble on the floor, all the while muttering to herself.

"Malfoy, what's going on?" Harry asked gently, wand rising defensively. The blonde didn't respond other than to give the scarred auror a pained look. Before the dark haired man could say anymore Mrs. Malfoy leaped to her feet.

"Yes," she cried," Yes!"

The raving woman scurried to the far side of her mess of markings. As she crossed the floor, careful not to smudge her lines, Harry noticed something. The charred drawings were all very precise for mere scribbles of a crazy woman. There was a specific intent behind the symbols. It reminded the auror of something but what he couldn't put his finger on it. He was faintly reminded of Hermione and a drawing in a book she had shown him recently. For the life of him couldn't recall what the conversation was about.

"Mother! No! "Draco shrieked, voice filled with panic.

Harry's head shot up at, eyes focusing on the widow. Mrs. Malfoy had gotten a knife from somewhere and was now dragging it across her forearm. Blood dribbled down from her freely bleeding arm onto the charcoal lines at her feet.

"Everything will be made right," she promised, smiling at her son who was paralyzed at the sight of her blood. Harry realized the blonde man was standing in the middle of the complex drawing. The man stepped forward, toward Draco, intent on pulling the stunned man away.

"Malfoy," Harry said pulling both blondes out of their stupor. For the first time sense the aurors had arrived she noticed their presence. The smile dropped from her face and she became as pale as her son. The woman hadn't factored them into her crazy ritual.

"No," she whispered," NO!" she cried more forcefully, frantic. But it was too late. Harry had already stepped into her spell. The floor lit up, blinding both men with white-blue light. They could feel the room shutter then Harry felt as if he were falling.

"Harry!" was the last thing the scarred man heard before gut wrenching pan spread through the man's body. He gave an agonizing shriek of pain then blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2: Not in Kansas

Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy awoke feeling like he had been trampled by a heard of centaurs. Disoriented, he wasn't sure what time it was or how long he had been sleeping. Heck he wasn't even sure where he was, though it looked a lot like his cellar just without all the grime, mold and burnt smell.

Groaning he pushed himself onto his elbows to get a better look around the place. Only a smidgen of light filtered through the small barred windows at the top of the walls. The cellar looked exactly like his cellar had before the dark lord had gotten his hands on it. Dry and smelling faintly of earth and wine. Grey eyes scanned his surroundings and found that indeed there were wine racks lining the wall along with pantries of preserved food. Enough to feed a small army. Beside him was Potter, knocked out cold and looking quite haggard. His clothes were ruffled, like he had gotten out of bed and threw on yesterday's clothes. Which was very likely what had happened.

Swallowing Draco looked away. Staring at the boy savior had become an increasingly bad habit of the former slytherin. The blonde hadn't noticed the change at first, how his gaze gradually started to gravitate toward the dark haired man. When he had, it disturbed him. Draco had come to realize how much of his thoughts revolved around Potter. And it wasn't just because the man had saved him from Azkaban, though that's what Draco had originally thought. It was something about the way Potter never gave up on him, how he looked past the cruel facade and saw that Draco had never supported the Dark Lord.

Neither had his mother, which is why Draco had woken up confused when he felt the pulse of dark magic shake the manor. The blonde had rushed out of bed thinking the house was under attack. Panicked, Draco went straight for his mother's room to make sure she was alright. When the man didn't find Narcissa there his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. All Draco had left was his mother, and his monthly parole meetings.

Draco had been shocked to find that the source of the dark magic was his own cellar, conjured by his very frantic mother. Narcissa Malfoy hadn't been well in months. After the war she had deteriorated, obsessed with trying to make Draco's life better, not that there was much that she could do. She had tried at first with housekeeping, which clearly wasn't her thing. Then with cooking, her attempts in the last couple of months had started to become edible. But no matter what Narcissa did it never seemed to be enough, and Draco had no way to help her. He had taken over cooking else they would have starved or died of some hideous disease. Draco even tried to do some cleaning for his mother but that had sent the woman into a tizzy so Draco had let her be. Eventually the witch began to lock herself in the library, poor over book after book endlessly.

A noise on the cellar stairs drew Draco's attention back to the present. The blonde reached instinctively for his wand only to remember that the ministry had never allowed him a new one after he had lost his during the war. Thinking fast he turned to Harry, who was still out cold, and shook the man.

"Potter," he hissed. The auror didn't stir.

"Who's there?" a male voice, familiar but strange at the same time, echoed down the stair case.

Draco scrambled to his feet. The war had taught him that it was better to face problems head on. The war and his talks with Potter. His cowardess from his teen years had been a big part of ruining his life and though he couldn't change his past, he could make a better future. His house arrest would end by the years close and he would be free to roam. If he made it through this day.

Steel grey eyes bore into the darkness of the stairwell as a faint light began to fill it, steadily becoming stronger. Draco flinched and shielded his eyes as light flooded the cellar.

"Who-," The voice broke off.

Draco peeked out, letting his eyes adjust to the lumos' light. What he saw made this jaw drop. Standing in front of him, wand pointed at Draco, was himself. The young man's hair was slicked back in a style Draco hadn't used in years. Hard steel grey eyes glared at him while his lips bulled into a thin line. It was almost like staring into a mirror. If that mirror held a healthier, better built, tanned version of himself.

"Who are you?" The man growled. Their voices even sounded familiar.

Draco blinked and almost said 'who do you think I am' but refrained. Instead he said in his usual bored drawl, "Draco Malfoy."

The other him sneered, "Very funny. Protrificus totalus."

Draco should have expected to be cursed, after all Draco would have done the same to some look-a-like upstart. The blonde's body locked up then started to fall. If Draco could have flinched, dreading the impending impact, he would have. Luckily for him the other man caught him with a levitation spell before he hit the cold, hard stone. If Draco could have sighed in relief he would have.

It was only then that Draco's assailant, other Draco?, noticed Harry lying unconscious on the floor.

"Who is he?" Other Draco demanded roughly. The man scowled when he realized that Draco couldn't respond. With a frustrated sigh other Draco flicked his wand at Harry. Ropes shot out the tip of the wand and wound their way across the auror, tying him up. That done other Draco levitated Draco upstairs.

The blonde's eyes roamed, taking in his surroundings as his look-a-like moved him upstairs. Everything looked exactly like Draco's home had before the war. Before Voldemort got his grimy hands on it. Of course there were small discrepancies. Such as several pairs of worn shoes at the door way and a number of ratty coats Draco would never let into his home. It was if more than lived here than just two people. It wasn't hard for Draco to realize that this wasn't his home. And not for the first time he wondered what exactly had his mother done.

The other blonde moved Draco to the kitchen where another surprise waited for him. A red haired, freckled face man sat at the kitchen table. He head was cradled by one hand while the other was occupied filling the ginger's mouth with cereal, a muggle breakfast that Draco would never let into his house. The man's eyes looked up from reading the paper when the two blondes entered. Well other Draco entered, Draco was levitated in. George Weasely was sitting in what looked like Draco's kitchen. Draco was sure this day couldn't get any weirder.

The red head's eyebrows shot up as Draco's captor settled Draco into a chair and tied him up in much the same way as he had Harry. Ropes binding Draco to the chair, the blonde released his curse, making it possible for Draco to move his body again. Not that he could move it far. The blonde settled into a chair across the table from Draco.

"What'd ya get there, Drake?" the Weasely said swallowing a mouth full of cereal. Draco still couldn't get over the fact that there was a Weasely in his house.

"He's claiming to be me," other Draco, or Drake as the Weasel twin had called him, drawled. It was irritating to have his own haughtiness thrown in his face.

"Funny, cause he looks like you," George chuckled.

"Shut up and get George will you," Drake quipped tartly. Draco stiffened at the sentence. What did he mean get George? Wasn't this George? He had to be because the only other person who looked like the twin Weasel was the other twin Weasel, and he was dead.

"Alright, alright." Not George got up snickering and left the kitchen. There was a Weasel in his house unattended. A Weasel that should be dead if Draco's assumption was correct and he was in fact the other twin Weasel. The kitchen was deathly quiet, though that mostly had to do with Drake having cast a silencing charm on him.

Not George returned with George, of course they looked exactly alike. Draco thought he was going crazy. His mother had cast a crazy spell on him where he had an evil twin and the dead were alive.

"Now this is interesting Malfoy," Both blondes responded to the name, same steel grey eyes flicking to the speaker," found your long lost twin did ya?" The two gingers crossed the room to lean against the counter.

"Very funny," Drake sneered, not in a hateful way though. It was almost like the three were… friends. "Just help he interrogate him will you?"

"Sure thing, Drake," the two said in unison. Drake nodded and flicked his wand at Draco, giving the blonde his speech back. Honestly Draco was a bit disconcerted that his doppelganger seemed to have wordless magic down. Though he reckoned he shouldn't feel so bad because his education on that subject had been cut short because of the war and with his wand taken away he was unable to resume practical studies.

"So Blondie, how'd you get into Malfoy Manor?" the ginger who wasn't George asked cheerfully. Draco still refused to believe that he was the dead twin Weasel, so he didn't respond. In his defense though, if it was in fact Fred Draco's mind would have been officially blown.

"Answer the question," Drake didn't seem to have much patience. Then again Draco had never had much patience himself. It was only his years putting up with Crabb and Goyle that had helped him build a small reserve of it.

"Your Fred," Draco choked out, still in slight shock. The twins shared a confused and suspicious look. They were obviously uncomfortable with that name.

"Yes," said not George slowly, eyeing him.

Draco's throat closed up. He wanted to scream, close his eyes and wake up where everything made sense. Where dead people stayed dead. The young Malfoy tried to school his features, look like he was remaining calm. He had the distinct feeling that he was failing miserably at it. His lips trembled and a babble of words fell out of his mouth.

"Oh Merlin I'm talking to a dead man. I'm talking to myself and a dead man. Tied to a chair in my own kitchen talking to myself and a dead man. There are Weasels in my house. Oh dear Merlin."

"Drake your captive is either mental or a really good actor," commented George who Draco now realized had both ears intact. Draco sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Something he had recently taught himself to do whenever he began to panic. He wasn't a school boy anymore, he was a grown man and he would act like one.

"Why do ya think I'm dead?" asked Fred, one orange eyebrow raised.

'Maybe I'm dreaming,' Draco thought, 'that's it. I'm just having a really really bizarre dream.' Even Draco's own thoughts didn't convince him. Denial was so hard to keep. For as little sense as all this was making, the situation itself was rational. At least somewhat.

"Answer the question," Drake growled again. It was funny, Draco never remember himself growling. Potter growling, yes. Himself growling, no.

"Because you died. In the Battle at Hogwarts. And George lost his ear. I don't know how, but I know he lost it because Weasel won't let me forget it," Gez, his other self was stronger than any veritum serum that Draco had ever taken. And the blonde had thought it was easy to lie to one's self.

"This is getting us nowhere," Drake scowled leaning back in his chair," What battle at Hogwarts are you referring to? There was not battle at Hogwarts. That school has been closed down for years. You better come up with a more convincing lie before I hex you to next Monday."

Draco felt his eyes widening without his consent. The blonde couldn't help it. What did he mean Hogwarts was closed? How could that be possible? Why? Too many questions were making Draco's head spin. There was only one conclusion the blonde could come to. He was not in Kansas anymore. (He had been required to watch The Wizard of Oz on a dare from his dorm mates during the third year. He wouldn't admit this to anyone but Draco was rather fond of the movie.)

"How did you get into the manor?" Drake tried again," How did you get passed the wards?"

"I live here. A-actually I don't think I live here. No I suppose I don't live here. I'm probably here as a result of mother's spell going completely wrong. Though maybe this had been her intention and she just hadn't factored Potter into the equation," Draco rambled, thinking out loud," Really not my fault at all. It's practically Potter's fault in fact."

"Potter?" The twins were in unison again.

"What aren't you telling us Drake?" George broke off.

"I think its official, your hostage if defiantly bonkers," concluded Fred.

"Shut up both of you!" Drake turned his attention back to Draco," Is that who the other man is supposed to be? James Potter?"

"Other man?" the twins said simultaneously starting to sound annoyed. Probably from being left out of the loop. Drake merely waved his hand to silence them.

"No. No that's Harry Potter," Draco was astonished when he got no reaction," Harry Potter, you know Golden boy, Boy-who-lived. Twice, he lived twice if I recall correctly. Hero extraordinaire."

Again Draco got no reaction. There was something defiantly wrong with the world if they didn't know who Harry Potter was.

"He's only the very wizard who defeated the Dark Lord," Draco tried again, his tone scoffing and condescending. Now that got a reaction. Three wands pointed at his skull. What a pleasant morning this was turning out to be. The three were now talking in a rush. Their sentences had stopped making sense and Draco realized that they were speaking in code. Draco swallowed, unsure of what he had said wrong.

"Fine," Drake hissed," Contact the Order, but I still say he's a spy and we should kill him."

"Yeah, yeah," Fred said," But before that lets make sure we get the whole story."

"Honestly I pretty sure he's just insane. Though that doesn't explain the whole looking like you and thinking he is you thing," George added his two scents in.

"Boys?"

Draco went stiff at the voice. It couldn't have been more than a few hours sense he last heard it but it was different. The woman's voice wasn't frantic or hurried. She didn't sound out of breath or like she had lost any sleep. Her voice was prim and stern, the perfect tone for a proper pureblood aristocrat's wife. The voice of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Sorry mother, did we wake you?" the blonde doppelganger asked. Draco's back was to the kitchen door but he could just imagine the slight smile at Drake's diversion.

"What is going on my Dragon?" she insisted. Draco's breath caught in his throat, his eye were wide but not looking at anything in particular. He wanted so bad to turn around, to be sure that the woman was alright, was sane.

"Just interrogating an intruder," Drake replied coolly but Narcissa didn't miss a beat. She stepped into the room, her shoes clicking on the tiled floor. She came into view, moving right past Draco to stand next to his twin. Draco's teeth clenched painfully as the woman stared at him with mild surprise and obvious distain.

Narcissa Malfoy looked nothing like the woman from that morning, but then again she probably wasn't. She was strong, healthy and elegant. Her hair was pulled back from her face and hung down to her shoulders. Her clothes were neat and dark, highlighting her pale skin. He face was closed off, the picture of stoicism. Draco's chest tightened, as did his throat. He wanted to reach out and touch her, just to make sure she was real. This woman was Narcissa before the Malfoy's lost everything. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Draco causing him to flinch and look away.

"What spell is he using?" She asked coldly.

"None that we know of," said Drake.

"We checked him for glamours-" said George.

"But came up with nothing," continued Fred.

"If it's polyjuice-"

"Which we suspect it's not-"

"Then we'll know in an hour or so," concluded George.

"In addition," Drake cut in before the twins could continue their back and forth," there is another unconscious in the cellar, a Harry Potter? Well, according to Mr. Malfoy here, his name is Harry Potter"

"Mr. Malfoy is it?" Narcissa quipped icily, her tone agonizing Draco. He had heard it used many a times but never had it been directed at himself.

"Mo-"Draco started then stopped. He swallowed trying to get his words in order. One wrong word could ruin everything, his mother had taught him. But he was desperate to get her to stop looking at him with those cold eyes. "Mrs. Malfoy, I believe I have come to be here by a grave mistake. This morning my mother was attempting some dark ancient magic. My parole auror and I got trapped in the spell. When I awoke I found myself in your cellar."

"And just where did you come from?" Mrs. Malfoy's voice, while less hostile, was still guarded.

"I-well at first I thought it was the past. Like a spell similar to the time turner. But then he showed up," he gestured to Drake," A-and now I'm not sure. We are the same person but… not. And none of you know who Harry Potter is, which leads me to believe that he either doesn't exist here or never defeated Lord Voldemort."

All four interrogators flinched at the name.

"So the latter then," Draco concluded dryly.

The twins pushed off from the counter at the same time. Quite creepy if you asked Draco. "I think we need to call the Order," said Fred.

"You should probably question your second guest while we do that Drake," Said George as the two practically raced out of the room. The other blonde rolled his eyes and snorted. He rose, far more graceful than his ginger companions and turned towards his mother.

"Watch him will you? You've gotten more out of him than I was able to."

Narcissa nodded and kissed her son on the cheek while Draco stared numbly at the familiar table top.


End file.
